Puzzled
by cityrosecrantz
Summary: Totally not your average highschool experience. This is sorta angsty with tidbits of Lams, and Mulette-we'll see what happens later. Lin makes a cameo, too.
1. Chapter 1

To John Laurens, getting through highschool was nothing short of puzzling. He liked to think of it as a Rubix cube; there are a ton of tiny cubes that somehow came together to make six different colored sides. It didn't make sense to him-well, it was highschool was it _supposed_ to make sense? Life so far hadn't. He had the basic nuclear family. A mom, a dad..a dog.

He had friends..though their intentions could be..misjudged if one were to see their antics out of context. For example, there was that one time when Herc and Alex thought they could light their farts on fire. The matches had come from Washington's collection, unfortunately. He had always made a point out of taking a decorative box from the glass bowl at the hostess' desk at the Lucky Goose, the town's local Chinese restaurant, saying, jokingly, that they would be worth a lot in the future.

The town of Independence, New York, wasn't worth a lot, if you looked in the wrong places. The Washington home was a great place to look. It was an enormous mansion, with a circular driveway, because apparently those were what gave Karens girl-boners, Alex said each time he and the rest of their band of misfits rounded the corner, backpacks slung over their shoulders. It was home to the Hamiltons.

Oh, right, there was more than one Hamilton kid. In fact, there were three.

Alex was the oldest at seventeen, but the shortest, with a stick thin frame, a sharp chin that jutted out when he frowned. He covered up his lack of muscle with bright, baggy t-shirts that drew attention to the graphics than the rest of him. What he lacked in body, was made up for in other assets; like his hair. Long and sleek, straight and ebony-black. His eyes were a deep set amber color, that flicked when the light hit them at the right angle.

Next was Phillip, Alex's twin, who if you crossed paths with on the street, you wouldn't have ever guessed he was related to the infamous Alexander unless he told you so. He was the 'black sheep' of the family, but his features proved him not to be as such. With milky pale skin and blonde curls (that barely showed due to the simple fact that he shaved his head every couple of weeks) and wide, delicate blue eyes that sparked with flecks of gold and grey. With his heavily built figure, he was what Martha called a 'looker', and rightly so; girls yanked off their chastity rings as soon as he made eye contact with them. But he wasn't interested in any of that. He kept to himself, only speaking when he needed to. Otherwise, his lips would stay pressed together in remote silence.

Next came Anastasia, the only girl at sixteen and the second tallest at a mere five-foot-five. She was the real black sheep to John, who admired how she moved so fluidly. It was a wonder, that out of the clumsy older brothers that had come before her, that she seemed to walk on a cloud. Her slender limbs held a small, muscular frame. Her face, a round canvas marked with beauty. Thin, bold pink lips were turned up in an ever present smile, her cheeks were round and dusted with a soft blush to contrast her peachy complexion, smattered with freckles, or as John liked to call them, sunkisses. (It had a better meaning directed towards her, then it was towards him, a guy who had gotten a few too many spots). Her hair was a dark chestnut color, soft and straight that fell to the middle of her poised back. On this particular day at the Washington Mansion, the entire group was congregated in the kitchen, fighting about Harry Potter knowledge over sugary drinks, when in the midst of the heat, John noticed Anastasia, or better known as Ana, amble over to the chrome doored refrigerator and pause for a moment, her hand hovering over bottles before she made her final selection; a glass bottle of mineral water.

"John, you're a Ravenclaw, and you aren't shy!" Lafayette quite literally pulled his friend back into the conversation, presenting the other teen as a prize to Alex, who looked over John, as if scrutinizing his very image. A smirk played on his lips.

"He's shy around my little sister." He answered slyly before turning to Hercules and Lafayette, who were splayed out lazily across a pair of overstuffed leather recliners. Lafayette peered over the rims of his literal rose-tinted glasses to exam his companion, nodding along with Alex. He held out a hand to admire his glossy bright pink nails.

"Il est très mal à cacher ses sentiments." [He is not good at hiding his feelings.]

His teeth gleamed as he started to snicker, leading Alex in on the joke. John only drew away, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. "Shut up, will you? It's not..like that."

Hercules raised a brow. "Have you even spoken a word to her? Like, actually?"

"I'm right over here," Ana was sat at the kitchen counter, watching the interaction with an airy stare. "You understand that I can hear you, hm?" She gave that same bright smile, only making John's face blossom into flames. He covered up his utter embarrassment with his signature crooked smile. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants and swiveled his hips slightly.

"Well, Miss, you don't speak as much as you should. You have such a sweet voice." His gaze averted from hers for a moment. He could feel the air around him get tighter. He was screwing up right before everyone's eyes and it didn't feel good. Should he run? Yup, the front door was right down the hall, he could run now and come back for his backpack later. No, that was wimpy, right?

"You should talk more."

Ana's eyes went wide. Her cheeks puffed out in an attempt to conceal her laughter, but it spilled out of her mouth like a chorus of bells. She held her stomach loosely, doubling over.

She looked up at the group, pushing a few strand locks from her glittering hazel eyes.

"You're..funny." She took in a soft breath, cupping her cheek in the palm of her hand, her gaze flicking to the ground than back up. John's face relaxed, and he found himself letting out a forced chuckle. He reached his hand up to his neck, rubbing it lightly. "I wasn't trying to be.."

"Hey, An." Alex stepped in, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood, teetering back and forth on his heels. "Do..you wanna head to the woods with us..finally? We're leaving in a bit, so..you up for it?"

Ana's eyes widened yet again, but her expression curdled not more than a second later. "Isn't it going to be wet, you know, since it just rained?" She picked at her nails, watching as her light blue polish fell off her fingertips in tiny cerulean flakes.

"Come on, An. We're all going, plus we're gonna have the _Burn Bible_-a new fresh copy.." Alex raised a brow, a grin snaking his way onto his face, so wide, it seemed like it would fall off.

"No way!" Hercules leapt out of his recliner so quickly, he almost knocked it over. His grin was as wide, if not wider than Alex's. He grabbed his thick, yellow Canada Goose jacket off the pegs that hung near the widely arched front door, and flung it open, running for his Chrysler SUV, a giant amongst the modest Toyota Corollas the Washingtons drove. "I'm driving."

"We know, mon ami." Lafayette followed after his friend, clad in a flower embroidered off-the-shoulder top. It was strangely similar to one that Ana had been wearing a few weeks earlier, when the weather hadn't been as frigid. Instantly, John noticed that the interior smelled faintly of cigarettes. Hercules took note of his expression, answering in a blase tone. "My dad took it out for a spin."

John only nodded before leaning back against the red patterned cushion between Alex and Ana. Alex had no problem with personal space, taking up as much room as his wiry frame needed, whilst Anastasia sat with a straight back, taking her time to buckle herself in and peer out the window at the emerald green blur of trees as they whizzed by on 750 horsepower. At Alex's feet laid a plastic shopping bag, and there it was, the coveted _Burn Bible._

Everyone circled around the book once they got to the grotto-it wasn't any structured building, but a lean-to made of old, rotted logs and branches. The teens all crouched down uncomfortably, the Bible sat in front of them, its pages wrapped and coddled in the plastic binding of a, well-binder. In the front pocket for all to see was a title page, written out wit 21-point font..with pixelated flames coming off the letters. Naturally, everyone had their own opinions that were simply answered with a flip of Alex's middle finger. Anastasia rolled her eyes in distaste. "So, what's the whole deal with this..thing?" A grin played on her lips.

"Well, dear sister," Alex began, getting off his hands and knees, brushing damp, stray leaves from his knees. "This book is not merely a thing, but a code of conduct my comrades and I live by." He gestured to the other three guys. "The code to fight against our practical enemies, otherwise known as Thomas Jeffershit and James Crapperson."

Of course, everyone had an opinion about these nicknames, except for Ana. They were silenced with a flip of the bird.

Alex picked up the Bible and flipped through a medley of pages before he landed his pointer finger on one page. He looked around at the group. "Guys," He said slowly. "What do you think about an ambush this year?"

"What, ambushing Thomas?" Lafayette asked lazily.

"Nevermind that," Hercules waved the French teen off. "What sort of thing were you thinking? Shaving cream, spray silly string on his Ralph Lauren backpack?"

"Would a Molotov cocktail suit your thirst for revenge?" Alex dropped the binder, rustling through the bag, bringing out a paper bag, a bottle of Sam Adams, and a box of Lucky Goose matches. He pulled a bottle opener from his pocket and the cap went flying. The beer went into the bag, the amber liquid dripped from the thinly glued bottom. Hercules lit a match, and dropped it into the bag. Ana reared back, her brow furrowed in the fear of oncoming disaster.

The flames burst from the top, flickering dangerously, singeing the edges of the bag, turning them black instantly.

"Put it out!" John noticed Ana's distress, and grabbed the bag from his friend, blowing on it frantically. After thirty or so seconds, the flames finally died, prompting him to drop the bag, feeling the existing heat begin to blister. Quietly, the five of them stared at the bag, thinking only of the forest fires they would cause-and the millions they would have to pay in debt.

"What if we did it with soda?" Ana asked after a bit, her eyes brightening. And we used Mentos as a..what do you call it, a reactant?"

John nodded. That was a good idea, in fact, a great one. "Alex," He asked. "What were you even planning on doing with those cocktail things?"

Alex teetered back and forth on his heels. "Maybe setting his jacket on fire? I..didn't know it would be so intense.."

"Where did you even find the, how you say, the recipe for this..thing?" Lafayette prodded, gathering up the charred, and melted ruins of the cocktail and shoving the corpse back into its bag.

"Wikihow.." Alex's tone wavered, his mouth split open in a loud cackle. Soon, everyone joined in in a soft cacophony, before heading down the path to the car, and down the street to the Rochambeau Mart, a beehive of neon lights blinking vicariously, the woosh of the clear sliding doors held the wonder of high calorie snacks and high blood pressure. But the group was only there for one thing. Five bulk packs of Mentos were dumped and albeit spilled on the front counter, and eight packs of MUG Beer were slammed down on the floor. Alex dodged the pimply, squeaky teen's glare as he whipped out a black, professional-looking credit card, and slid it down the card-checker, waiting for the beep. They had run fresh out of bags, the cashier said, with a smug look on her face, so the group lugged their loot out to the trunk of the Chrysler, with a few bottles having been wrangled from the plastic rings for a drink or two. Laf was tapping furiously at his phone, before hitting send. "The Schuylers are on their way."

"Here?" Alex jumped up, his eyes shot with a bolt of happiness. "Eliza..is coming here?"

"Have you got _coton _in your ears?" Lafayette raised a perfectly plucked brow. "I just said they were coming."

Ana laughed, wrapping an arm around her brother. "You're so cute, when you get all jittery like that." She was a few inches taller than he, but she looked like a swan hovering over a duck in one sense. A red VW pulled up behind the Chrysler, and out stepped a gaggle of gorgeous young women, all wearing their own respective colors.

First was Angelica, the most notably passionate of the three wore a firey red jumpsuit, that hung casually off her curvacious frame, and fittingly enough, her charcoal ringlets fell to her butt, and swayed jauntily with her confident gait. Her face was long, and angular, her dark skin made her look like an Ethiopian queen; radiant and precious, like a jewel, which might have explained her aqua coloured eyes, like topaz.

Secondly came Eliza, whose short, straight beetle black hair fell short and sharp around her shoulder, her bangs were held from her face with colorful, girlish clips-only to contrast the casual fit jeans and plain blue crop top, showing off a flat strip of pale skin. Her eyes were not big, but a strange, deep set blue color, so deep, it matched her top.

Lastly came Peggy, whose sunny clothing matched her attitude. Having just gotten back from softball practice, she was dressed in the school's ugly maroon and gold uniform, but if she had her way, it would have been yellow, with orange stripes. Her frizzy blonde Afro was untamable, unrelenting to any form of discipline-maybe you couldn't give that to hair, but discipline was poison to Peggy. Her deep brown eyes showed nothing but kindness.

"I saw 'Mentos' and 'root beer' and I just had to come." Her eyes glazed over the goodies.

Angelica huffed. "She made me push the speed limit by this much." She squeezed the air between her index and pointer finger to show exactly what 'this much' really was. Eliza only laughed. "It was only by a bit. Plus, we're in the rural part of town, there's no police around."

"Yeah, there were no police around," Peggy echoed in her tinny voice. Soon, everyone was crowded around the back of the Chrysler, sipping at root beer.

"You know," John sprawled out across the pavement, carefully watching as Ana sat with her knees tucked beneath her, her soda was unopened and forgotten as she scoped out the slummy urban scene before them. She seemed to snap back to reality, her head cocked in his direction, her eyes sparked with recognition. Her lips parted.

"I know it was a good idea. It was better than being put in juvenile for arson." She let out a nervous tinkle. John nodded, only focused on her soft lips. Soon, they were pressed together; her rosy ones, to his dry ones. His hands traveled up to her neck, cradling it with his strong, dry, cracked fingers. Her swan hands made their way to his chest. It was only a moment before they separated.

"John.." She whispered. "Aren't you..a puzzling one."


	2. Chapter 2

A puzzling one. That was what Ana had called John. Of all the things she could call him, Alex thought as he watched their embrace, trying to keep his jaw from dropping. They looked..perfect together. It was a pretty long shot, saying that they were perfect, but it was true. They were both beautiful. Both quiet, and soft-hearted.

Weren't similarities the key to any sort of connection? Well, if that was the case, he and John were on two different pages when they were dating.

His name, less than two years ago had been Rachel; Rachel Diana Hamilton. Rachel may have been the oldest Hamilton child, and a sister to Phillip. But being a sister didn't mean she didn't long to wear t-shirts and jeans and roam around in the muddy tropics right after a torrential downpour. The dresses and clips just weren't doing it. Frills and hot pink leopard print just wasn't..him. It pained him to walk through the dizzying corridors of the Monticello Shopping center and encounter the fluorescent neon sign of a _Justice_ outlet and watch preteen girls drag their overtired decaffeinated mothers into the sea of colorful off-brand cartoon characters.

It was sickening to think that he had lived his life wrong for so long, and the turning point was when he saw little four year old Anastasia toddled down the slanted, paint-chipped hallway of his family's tiny studio apartment wearing a little frilly tutu and waving a magic wand. Her wide doe eyes scanned her sister with scrutiny. She pressed the tip of her wand, a foam star to the tip of her nose and said in her high, tinny voice,

"You're different now." And pranced off to do whatever little girls did.

That was when Rachel became Alexander, and he tried true tears of joy. But how, could he explain this to his mother without seeing the fear rise in her eyes. It was the same fear that held her captive the day their father had left. There was no war to be waged between the two; they had not lived happily together, and tried in vain to hide their distaste for each other from their parents-in fact, Anastasia was born in an attempt to rekindle their marriage, but it only brought in another hungry little Hamilton, their father had said loudly after a heavy drinking binge, pointing angrily at the tiny pink bundle that lay in Rachel's arms, mewling for a feeding.

Phillip had stood between his two parents, stout and chubby. His little mouth was curled down into a frown.

"You're mean." He said simply. And his father's rage seemed to extinguish in a second. His arms hung loosely by his side. Everything stood still.

By morning, he was gone. He hadn't tried to make it discreet, clothes had been flung from open drawers, and trailed all the way to the crooked front door, which had spent the entire night ajar.

Life went on, the children grew, and secrets were kept from the people they would hurt the most. Then came the day, Alexander remembered, when his mother couldn't get up from bed. She was cold, and paler than her usual fair tone. Her honey coloured hair lay astrew across her face, covering up her lucid, opaque blue eyes.

That was weird, Alex thought, people didn't usually sleep with their eyes wide open, but he had read that some guy in a rural place called Bellingham, Massachusetts could do it.

So, the children went about their daily routine, making breakfast, which consisted of sloppy sugary cereal. It was a Sunday, so it was allowed. Then they headed off to play, like they always did.

It wasn't until Mrs. Robbin, an old widow that lived in the flat below them came up to check on the children, and asked where their mother was. Anastasia pointed down the hall to their mother's bedroom, and put a pudgy finger to her lips. "She's sleeping."

Mrs. Robbin raised a fuzzy white brow and ambled down the hall, her thick-soled orthaepedic shoes clunking heavily against the uneven slats of hardwood flooring.

The island's only ambulance was called, prompting the three to run to their bedrooms in fear, grabbing whatever valuables they could before they were carted off. The siren sounds prompted memories, bad ones. Once, their father had been arrested for drinking whilst driving, and his charges were only worsened when the warden saw that he had a baby Anastasia in the backseat, laying across the vinyl only swaddled in a blanket.

But this time, the children were being taken away, and not just from their home, but the island entirely. Too many bad things had happened, a social worker explained to the two boys whilst bouncing a frantic Anastasia on her knee. That must have been terrifying, Alexander thought, to be bouncing like that. At least they wouldn't have to deal with whoever it was anymore because they were headed to New York City.

From what he had seen from pictures, it was the biggest city he had ever seen. From a bird's eye view, it seemed like the rooftops never seemed to end, and airplanes seemed to scrape the stratosphere. People from..everywhere lined the streets, and looked so different. It was heaven. Maybe, Alexander thought, he would blend right in, just as himself.

The Miranda home wasn't exactly what the three expected as they were unloaded into the cracked pavement in front of the row house, that was squished between others just like it. Everything around the home seemed..dried out, like they had been in their prime once and then lost it all. But this home, through the uneven bricks shone with familial warmth. And the three were greeted with open arms as soon as they walked through the double French doors that beheld a tall, slim man with straight, spiky black hair, and warm, deep eyes.

"My name is Lin," He introduced himself, his wide lips curling up into a smile. "And you three are..?"

They introduced themselves, and the pieces of a broken life began to patch and mend themselves. Secrets were unlocked, Alex's specifically, and he finally became the person he wanted. His name was changed legally. Phillip immersed himself in sports, where talking wasn't needed, and his physical abilities shone through. Alex did the opposite, nursing his past with outspoken essays and speeches, and Anastasia, soft spoken Anastasia blossomed into a kind young woman whose body blossomed into a graceful swan's. Alex wrote a poem once, while watching her climb her aerial silks. He never showed her, though.

After seeing her affinity for dance, Lin had pushed her to strive for the best, and had gone as far as to install giant metal hoops into the living room's high cathedral ceiling and hang delicate strips of silk from them. He watched Ana every single day as she bent her body to the will of the pink waterfalls. It was on her sixteenth birthday when he wept as he watched her, his head bowed to hide his tears. Ana's eyes widened, she immediately unwrapped herself from her silks and set a slender hand on his shoulder, before asking what was wrong.

Lin gave her a red eyed glance, wiping the jagged tear streaks from his cheeks.

"A family is interested in taking you and your brothers in,"

The last ten years of the Hamilton children's lives had been firmly rooted in a in a safe place, now it was about to be uprooted again. The Washingtons were coming that day to meet the family, and celebrate Ana's birthday. Philip's bottom lip curdled in distaste. "This is supposed to be a family thing." His gaze flicked to Ana, who sat placidly, her arms crossed over her chest, her legs folded into a perfect lotus position. A smile played on her lips, but her brow was creased in annoyance. She took in a soft breath, and met Lin's eye level.  
"It would be fine with me. We can't just turn them away.." She nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Alexander just glared at Lin, ready to crack like an egg, about to release pure egg-yellow poison. "Why do we have to go? Phil and I aren't even eighteen. Ana's sixteen."

Lin's expression seemed to deflate, and then become rigid. "Son, just give them a chance, you'll see why I like them."

And so, begrudgingly, the kids got ready for the day ahead. The Washingtons showed up at twelve o'clock on the dot. Punctuality was something neither the Hamiltons or Lin ever got right, as in, they were never on time for any sort of commitment. And instantly, Alex knew what Lin liked about them. He studied Mr. Washington, or George, which he said they could call them, but none of them really felt like talking so casually on the first day. It just didn't feel right. The fluorescent lighting that lit up the modern, sleek kitchen shone on a bright spot on his bald head, highlighting his tan skin. If he wasn't dressed so smartly, Alex thought to himself, and had a gold hoop in one ear, he would be a spot-on _Mr. Clean _lookalike. In a cheeky attempt to lighten up the mood, he whispered this to his siblings and smiled wryly as they bit their bottom lips in an attempt to keep back their laughter. Martha, his wife, looked at them curiously as they huddled together, but her gaze soon returned back to the checkered skirt she wore with a matching blazer, before wrapping her slender, manicured fingers around her bubbling champagne glass, just to keep it from spilling over onto the marble countertop. Anastasia watched her with curiosity as well, admiring her poise and gracefulness even in the slightest movements. That was something the young aerialist could appreciate.

"So, kids, why don't you take the reins while I go and get some more champagne?" Lin hinted the kids with a slight raise of an arched, black eyebrow, holding up an empty bottle. Alexander's gaze flicked to his siblings, and they all began their rehearsed introductions; well, Phillip's was robotic enough for the Washingtons to realize it was scripted, getting a laugh out of the two adults.

"If your threes' last name wasn't Hamilton, I would think it to be Von Trapp." Washington remarked with a hearty laugh. Ana's eyes sparked. "..I..I love that movie."

"Ana, do you even know what that's about? Like, it's cute and all with the singing, but at the end, when they're leaving the home, they're not leaving because the Captain got a raise, it was because of the Holocaust."

All was silent as the group processed the knowledge that had rained down upon them, and Phillip broke the silence. "Well, there goes my childhood." A forced laugh came from everyone except for Alex, who seemed almost pleased with the awkwardness he had caused.

A few more painful hours went by, and the children were excused to go upstairs to their respective bedrooms to 'prepare for the school day ahead', and as soon as they were upstairs, the fiery power of teenage rage broke through the quiet.

"Alex, you were so rude!" Ana said sharply as she tromped off toward her door, but not until her brother got a tongue lashing. "You ruined our first impression, and now they probably think we're complete douches."

"No, that isn't it." Phil chimed in, taking off his tie loosening the knot that was tied close to his neck. "An, you and I were fine, he's the one who's a douche."

"Firstly, I was not being a douche." Alex protested, throwing his blazer in a messy heap on his bedspread. "I was only being myself, like Lin told us to be after those cringeworthy introductions. Plus, those people were complete Plastics, like, they were fake."

"So you were being a _prejudiced_ douche?" Ana countered. "According to your twisted logic, that's perfectly okay. I know that you don't want to leave, either. But Lin can't take us on his _In The Heights_ tour. Plus, he wouldn't be able to get tutors. It would be a whole mess."

"And I thought you were the oldest." Phillip said in a blase tone.

Alex hung his head, his dark locks sweeping into his eyes. Maybe that was a good thing. It would hide his shame. "I don't want to leave this place. You both know it's the only place that has ever shown us any sort of love, Lin has been the one there for us after all of this time. You all are crazy if you want to leave." His voice began to crack, showing signs of his true feelings.

"But you know that..we'll all be together. Alex, you know that." Ana said softly, wrapping a slender arm around her oldest brother and pulled him close. "It's..it's not like we're uprooting everything so drastically all over again. We'll only be a little bit outside the city."

Alex hugged her back, his small stature looking almost childlike in her arms.

"But it scares me." The simple, four word truth had been spoken. It was scary.

But they agreed to go in the end. Their bags were backed, along with duct-tape sealed boxes of their belongings. Alex and Phil had scribbled their names messily on their boxes, while Ana had clearly marked hers with neat labels that read, "Ana's _".

It was easy to get her packed, alright. But the hardest thing would be saying goodbye. If Alex could've, he would've walked right through that front door without uttering a single word to Lin, he would've, escaping the pain of leaving a happy chunk of his childhood and albeit teenhood behind. But that was inescapable, seeing that Lin had managed to wrangle each of them into a bear hug and a little kiss goodbye.

When it was Alex's turn, a box of Gillette razors was slipped into his hand, along with a simple pat on the back. "Look inside when you get a chance."

He nodded, inspecting the box before shoving it into his backpack and heading off to catch up with his siblings. Ana was wiping gooey blobs of mascara from her cheeks as she hugged each and every one of her friends goodbye; it was as if they had lined up just to see her leave, as if she was the Titanic, about to embark on its first (and final) voyage. Phil and he hung back, focused on getting their things together and trying to block out the sound of girly sobs. Once everyone had said their goodbyes, it was time to go, and so the world turned into a shapeless blur, but it wasn't buildings anymore, after a while, it was..trees. Beautiful tall oak trees that were full with the most brilliantly colored green leaves. Ana pressed her fingers to the window, her lips formed a tiny round 'O'. Phil had taken it upon himself to take pictures.

Where were they? Well, the three of them would've figured it out pretty easily based on the sign that stood in front of the town line that read

_Independence, New York, Population: 10,500_

But they had fallen asleep long before that. Neither did they know that the town's population had become 10,503 people.

But they did know that life was about to change for the better. Alex's hope came in the form of a green eyed, freckle-faced boy who wore a vintage looking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt, and it showed; the seams were coming undone in one of the sleeves. He smiled a wide, giddy smile and extended a hand.

"Hey, I'm John. You're the new kid, right? Principal Adams said I should show you around since I know this place like the back of my hand."

Okay, well, that was something. But it wasn't like Alex had really paid attention to anything except for John. And it was clear that the latter noticed, because after the tour was done, he handed Alex his Instagram handle; _turtleboyeee.600_

Of course, Alex would've had to make an account, but it was a start. Life from then on, became better as a whole; new friends were made, daydreams of possible love interest were dreamt, and the Washingtons turned out to be..great.

Then came the day that Alex was gonna ask John out. It was a long morning, especially since he had spent it looking at their Instagram chatroom, scrolling through past messages. They weren't flirtatious, but friendly. Was there a point in going through embarrassing himself if they were only friends. But he pushed himself either way. His fingers flew, typing out a short paragraph.

_John, hey. I've been thinking about this for a long time-_

_I know we've only been friends for a bit, but would you be.._

_..willing to go on a date with me?_

Oh, god. He sent it before he could look it over. Why? Why? Delete! Delete! He held his finger over the message, watching for the trashcan symbol to hover over it. But wait.

John was responding. His little ellipses bubble was popping up. Alex winced, his hand began to shake.

_Sure. Where do you want to go?_

_It'll be fun._

It would be fun. That wasn't flirty..but friendly, like they had always been.

And it was. But it wasn't romantic, not in the slightest. So Alex gave up hope.

Eliza..was fine. She was so sweet, and showed actual interest in him. But he wanted more, as any ambitious person would. He felt envy towards his sister as she kissed the boy he liked in that sleazy parking lot in a rural town.

And it hurt.

But it didn't have to hurt much longer. His gaze flicked to Peggy, who looked at John forlornly before tossing a few Mentos in her mouth. He slid next to her, handing her a root beer.

"Pegs, what's up?" He smiled slyly. "You seem a little bit...down."

Peggy's eyes went wide; the light that was usually there was lackluster. "Nothing, I'm just..a bit..distracted." She tore the wrapping from her tube and watched as the candies fell to the uneven pavement, breaking as they made contact.

"Well," Alex said coyly. "How would you like those worries to..go away?" He pulled a small white square from his pocket, lightly fingering the creases as he unfolded it. "I've got your answer."

Peggy tilted her head in confusion. "What are..Molotov cocktails?"


End file.
